Slam
by PrincessHiccup
Summary: It's high school. Kristoff Bjorgman is somewhat of an outcast whose best-friend is the most popular guy, rich guy in school. He's got invited to one of Hans' parties. It's the perfect opportunity to hook up with the girl of his dreams, but a certain the redhead has his some ulterior motives. (I never finished this and I don't think I will, but here's some unrevised Hansoff/Hanna)


AU: High school

Prompt: Hans wants Kristoff to join a party with him and his friends. Aka a group of people Kristoff barely knows and/or is shy around.

-::-

Slam.

"So are you coming to my _awesome_ party later tonight?"

".. I'm thinking about it."

"Oh, c'mon, Kris! What else do you have to do that's more important than tonight?"

Seventeen year old Kristoff Bjorgman sighed, leaning his right shoulder on tall blue lockers. His blue eyes shifted from the lockers to the other teenage boy. "How about homework?" he replied, crossing his eyes.

"Really? I don't see you for a study nerd," he responded. Kristoff could only glare at him and shake his head. "Well maybe I want to pass my classes, Hans."

The thinner teen ran his fingers through his tousled red hair. "You will," he paused," with my help. Care to join me and Anna for a study session after school?" he paused, seeing the look of unamused disbelief on the blonde's face. "Just kidding that's not happening. Anna is coming to the party too, are you sure you don't want to come?" Kristoff looked to his friend with a pondering expression.

"Fine, I'll go. You're driving me," he responded then quickly added," wait, no. I don't trust you to drive me, I'm driving you."

"What do you mean you don't trust me?" Hans asked before leaning on the locker along with him.

"I know you, okay? You're going to get drunk and God knows you're going to try and drive home with Anna in the passenger seat," Kristoff shot back. The way he leaned on the lockers made him slouch, so he had to look up through shaggy strands of girly blonde hair at Hans. He could see that Hans was still slightly sweaty from hockey. The corner of his mouth turned up at the tone of voice Kristoff used when he said Anna's name.

"I'm not stupid, Kristofer-"

"It's Kristoff."

"I'd never put Anna in danger," he replied with a foxlike smirk. Hans felt a sense of satisfaction when his friend sighed in relief and pushed himself off the lockers. "I'm going home now," Kristoff said. Before he could even place a second step, Hans stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, idiot."

The bulkier teen turned on his heel with an amused roll of the eye, "What?"

"I'm going to pick you up at 8 o' clock sharp. Be ready!" he declared in a plummy voice.

Kristoff was too late to hide a fruity laugh as he walked down the hall, Hans still saying things where he had left him on the locker.

"Dress nice. Ladies love a man who cleans up nice."

"Don't forget to brush your teeth, also. That's crucial."

"Bring mints, oh- and beer!"

As his words were fading and Hans knew Kristoff couldn't hear him anymore, and he knew he was smiling. Smiling that huge, goofy, weird, stupid, ugly smile.

-::-

"Mrow!"

"Sven, hold on I need to get inside!" Kristoff called from outside his screen door. His fingers fumbled with his key, trying to unlock his door. When it finally clicked, he swung open the door. He let out an enormous yawn that made tiny Sven flatten his ears in disapproval. The cat seemed to trot over to his owner's side and began to prance around as if he was glad to see Kristoff.

"Mroow," the cat meowed again. Normally a cat would rub its body along the leg of their owner, but Sven was an odd cat. Bending back on his hind legs, Sven shot himself up and onto the counter.

"Feeed me! Feed me!" Kristoff grumbled to himself, speaking as his pet. "Okay, okay," he replied to himself, leaning down to fill a cup with cat food.

"I'm going to a party tonight with some friends," he commented, starting a conversation with his cat as he ate. There wasn't a second thought in his mind. The rotund eyes of his tabby watched him as he spoke, as if he were listening. "I wish you could come, but I know you don't like people. Neither do I, but my friend convinced me to go." Kristoff stared off into space, standing there with a vacant expression.

On his mind were his thoughts of Hans. Something about him made Kristoff want to think twice about calling him his "friend". Every time he would mention Anna, Hans got this look in his eye. Suspicious? Yes. For as long as he'd known the girl Hans had, too.

"He doesn't like Anna," the blonde said to his cat aloud. "He can't… He knows I like her, right? A guy wouldn't do that to his bro..?"

Vigorously shaking his head, Kristoff grabbed a fist-full of his own hair, sighing deeply.

"Am I overthinking it?" he asked Sven. The cat was still happily eating food with a full mouth, bringing a soft smile to Kristoff's lips. "I am," he answered his own question to placate himself, "I am overthinking it."

-::-

Thick blonde hair, drenched in water was flipped up from Kristoff's face. The ends of his blonde locks were beginning to become too long. Soon enough without a haircut he wouldn't be able to see out of them. He wouldn't admit it, but the reason he ever cut his hair short was because of Hans' consistent teasing and mocking of his girlie long, blonde hair. With a thick white towel wrapped around his waist, he made his way into the kitchen for a snack. Sven, perched on the countertop, watched him curiously.

"What're you doooing!?" he spoke for his mute tabby.

"I'm getting something to eat before I go, buddy."

"Wont they have food at the party?"

Kristoff paused for a moment to think about that as if someone else actually said it to him. "Probably, but I think I'd prefer my own food just to feel safe."

The only lights illuminating in the room was the soft glow of the microwave time and a small yellow light above the stove. Rounding the corner of the black granite-top island of his kitchen, he poked his head into the pantry. "You might want to look at the time!" he announced for Sven.

"Yeah, yeah, I have more than enough time." Kristoff peeked out from the pantry with arms full of goldfish packets, honeybuns, and crackers. His eyes searched the room until they found the glowing green light of the microwave time.

7:43 PM.

"Holy-"Kristoff panicked, dropping a bag or seven of goldfish before darting down the hall to his bedroom. Sven followed quickly after him with his tail swinging as he ran. The wood floors were slick from the condensation of his hot, almost two hour shower. Rounding the corner to his bedroom and just before he could make it, Kristoff slid on the ball of his heel, causing him to fall backwards, landing heavily on his back with a high-pitched yelp. His back arched in from the numbing punch of pain where he struck. "F-Fuck you, wooden flooring…" he groaned then immediately felt childish for being resentful towards inanimate objects.

After he pulled himself together and pushed himself off the ground, wobbling, Kristoff scrambled into his room. "_Dress nice," _echoed in his mind as he desperately searched the stacked columns of clean clothes Bulda left for him on his bed. His hands began to shake from his fueled rush of adrenaline; he was that nervous.

Deciding to dress casual yet slightly dressy, he wore one of his more expensive jackets with 1% real wool on the inside. Since the weather was colder around February in Arendal, the rain was icy and uncomfortably cold.

"You're wearing that?" Sven interrupted.

"Uh, yeah, it's really cold outside and it's also really warm."

"You should check the time."

7:50 PM.

"You've got to be kidding me, am I a fucking snail?" Kristoff grumbled as he hurried to slip on skinny jeans that were a size too small. "C'mon, fit, please. Girls love skinny jeans, right?" Kristoff continued speaking to himself without a second thought. Or was it Sven he was talking to, he didn't know or care. Squeezing into them to his surprise, he made them fit. The whole party, being the socially awkward person he was, Kristoff knew would be a living hell. Pants that turned his feet blue, the awkward pauses and laughs between conversations, and the lack of bravery he had to drink alcohol. This was a terrible idea.

"Ten minutes, ten minutes," he repeated to himself, dodging around the room in search for things he thought maybe he was forgetting. In other words: things he wasn't missing.

Sven still following him with interest, made his way around his feet as he hurried to perilously find any sort of alcohol. "Bulda will notice its missing!" the Sven voice came in in an interjection.

"No she won't, she never even drinks this stuff. It's just for parties... Like the one I'm going to for example." Kristoff grabbed a bottle of what he thought was beer. It was most definitely not beer. But before he could pay attention to what was in the bottle, there was a knock at the door.

"Uh, one second!" he called to the door, shoving more of the bottles into his jacket. The sloshing amber liquid giving the illusion to his eyes it was spilling, he almost dropped two or three. Kristoff mumbled more curses under his breath then decided to just go. As he hustled to the door, there was another knock that gave off an annoyed vibe. He swung it open, face-to-face with Hans Westergard.

"About time you opened up, I told you to be ready," his words honeyed.

"Sorry I just wanted to make sure I had everything," Kristoff responded then internally cringed. Hans scoffed, leading them to his car. Of course he had one of the nicest cars out of everyone in the entire school. That rich jerk.

_That rich jerk is your best friend, asshole._

"What all did you bring?" he asked just after slamming his door close. "Uh, just some drinks." Kristoff glanced over at Hans who was beginning to pull out of the driveway with ease. He had yet to get his own driver's license since Bulda didn't trust him with her car, nor did she trust him in any situation where he could get hurt. Like this party he was going to for example.

"Cool," Hans responded in almost a whisper. The redhead was primarily focused on the road ahead of him, and not much to the boy beside him. Clearing his throat to perhaps fill in the awkward silence crossed Kristoff's mind, but he decided against it. He and Hans would hang out a lot at school, sometimes around town, but only with Anna; they were never alone together. And maybe that was just Kristoff being the overprotective guy he was. He'd give anything to earn the title _overprotective boyfriend,_ but who wants to be known as overprotective?

The car ride was silent for the most part. Other than the occasional sniffles from Hans made, making Kristoff glance over at him in suspicion, and shifting of Kristoff in his seat. Randomly Hans cleared his throat just before speaking, "So, Anna."

Kristoff blinked at the unexpected topic, fixing his gaze on the redhead whose green eyes refused to look his way. It took him aback further than he could comprehend. Something deep in him felt tight, like an old rubber band being stretched on the brink of snapping. Slowly, he spoke out, "Yeah, what about her?"

"Oh, I don't know…" he trailed off to only add, "I'm starting to think she likes me."

Kristoff felt discomfort fill his sneakers suddenly. The heat from his chest seemed to melt to all ends of his body; mostly his face. "Yeah?" he responded. He would _not _let his voice quaver in front of Hans. Instead, he swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Yeah, we had lunch the other day after school. I remember she kept blushing and nudging my arm as we walked. She's cute, don't you think?"

Hesitant to answer, Kristoff silently drew in a deep breath, "…Yeah."

Hans seemed to breathe out a dreamy sigh at the thought. The sweetened smile he wore on his lips was like literal and not metaphorical poison to Kristoff. The blonde thought that he would keep going on about the young girl, but to his surprise, he stopped. Before it could dawn on Kristoff that they had arrived, Hans' hand clapped down on his shoulder with his raucous voice, making him jump in his expensive wool jacket, "Don't embarrass yourself." The car door slammed leaving Kristoff alone in the car of the teen he didn't know was his friend, or not. He rubbed his temple deciding on whether or not to get out. It wasn't really like he had a choice so he said, "Ugh… fuck it, "before flinging the door open to spur himself onward.

"Watch what you're doing, asshole!" a girl shrieked after being hit on her hip by the car door.

"Sorry-!" Kristoff called, already too late since she fled with a can of beer and a sour look in her eyes. Kristoff recognized the girl. Usual Regina George of his high school. It's not that he didn't like her; he tried to keep his judgment on people he didn't know positive. But, not often did he care about that stupid moral Bulda taught him. She was a straight up bitch. "Nice," said a voice from behind.

_Hans_.

Kristoff turned to look at him in hopes he would save him from the perdition of this party. "Come inside, Anna and Elsa are waiting," he spoke out over the booming music that almost drowned out any hushed voices.

"This is ridiculous," Kristoff said to himself. He could talk shit about Hans right to his face, and he wouldn't be able to tell what he was saying. Unless, of course, Hans could read lips.

The party was your stereotypical high school party with the red plastic cups filled with God knows what, blaring music that Kristoff wouldn't listen to in a million years, and the thick, smoky atmosphere of cigarette smoke and weed. You might as well just put up a billboard on his front door that blinked like a casino sign saying, "_This is a high school party."_ Not even any details to what's going on; since a high school party is already bad news. He felt confined in the house despite how vast it was. The ratio of party-goers outnumbered the space no doubt. Hans lead him inside, slapping his hand down on the backs of other players as they walked through like he was the life of the party. And well, he was.

Hans brought him towards the back of his home into the kitchen before shoving past a few intoxicated girls who doubled over on themselves. He filled up a solo cup, handing it to Kristoff which contained a foul smelling liquid which was easily recognized from its smell: beer.

"Oh, uh, Hans-" Kristoff said, moving his hands away so that Hans couldn't place the cup in his possession.

"What?"

"I don't drink. Like, I'm not a drinker like you, I just its not-"he stammered.

"Shut up and just hold it. It gives off the illusion you're having a good time, okay?" Hans insisted then successfully placed the cup in the other teen's hand. "Now I'm going to find and Elsa and tell her to get some shots ready. Don't wait up!" Hans said before blending into the enormous crowd. It was starting to get off from all the bodies wriggling around Kristoff. His breath was uneasy from peculiar pressure he felt seep into his skin.

A small tap on his shoulder whipped his reverie and brought him back to reality. Kristoff turned around once again.

"Hiya, ice-guy!"

"Anna! Woah, crazy to see you here!" he yelled over the music to the junior. "Hah, uh, yeah I think I should be saying the same to you! I thought you hated parties?" she asked, slipping her hand into his and leading him off down the hall.

_Shit._

They had to squeeze through people standing in the halls and up the stairs laughing and talking, their words slurred. His laugh in reply to her comment was more uneasy than usual, "Well, yeah, I don't just kinda felt like joining the crowd y'know? See what all the buzz was about." Maybe it wasn't right to use the word _buzzed_ right then.

"Oh yeah?" she replied, pulling them both across a threshold then closing the door behind them. They were in a bedroom. Band posters and dirty clothes littered the floor bringing a chuckle to Kristoff. "Yeah," he said then added, "Is this Hans' room?" Anna smiled. He noticed her long strawberry blonde hair was twisted into one single braid, unlike her usual twin braids. It still looked nice on her, but he wondered why.

"Yeah," Kristoff's voice was soft now that they were isolated from the crowd. The walls still held a small vibrate from the music beyond the thin walls.

Kristoff couldn't help but stare at practically every object Hans owned in his room. From a nightstand that held a clock and trophies, to overlapping posters that stretched across the walls like a collage. For a rich kid like Hans, no one would expect him to have such a… modern teen's room. Kristoff expected an impeccably sized chocolate fountain or diamond encrusted bed sheets, but everything was normal. _Abnormal_, he thought.

Upon turning around, Kristoff saw Anna lying down comfortably on Hans' bed. She had her elbows propping her up with her head resting in her hands. "What are you doing?" Kristoff asked, looking at her, fear flickering across his face. "I'm laying down on a bed," she replied with a cheeky smile.

Kristoff felt ignorant. Obviously she was lying on a bed, but on Hans' bed. "No, I know- I just-"he stopped himself from saying more, and then spoke slower, "You're lying on Hans' bed." The blank look Anna gave him made Kristoff want to jump out Hans' room window.

"Yes, I am. I didn't know that! Thanks for telling me," she replied then rolled over on her back with a giggle. Kristoff didn't like this. Anna had just so contentedly lain down on his bed without a second thought. He couldn't pull his mind away from the fact she did so.

_Is she so comfortable in here because she's here often? Or is that just Anna being Anna?_

Clearing his throat, Kristoff shook his head, deciding to not let it eat away at him from the inside out, and to just ask her. "So, you and Hans, huh?"

"Um, yeah..?" Her cheeks shaded a pink that showed past her makeup. "Do you guys hang out often?" Kristoff questioned, sitting down beside her on the bed. She didn't seem to have a problem with having a conversation while you're upside down and the other person is right side up.

"I mean," she paused. All the wrong ideas came to his mind in that short few seconds of her sucking in a breath. _Is she thinking up a lie? Does she not want to hurt my feelings because she knows we share mutual feelings for each other but she isn't ready for a relationship? "_I usually come here after school. We hang out and he makes me lunch."

Kristoff felt his heart sink. Not to the bottom of his stomach, but to the bottom of the ocean. Where it would be lost forever, and never to be seen again. But he wasn't that dramatic. He fished it out from the salty water, and stitched himself back together. Swallowing thickly, he inquired again, "Do you come here when you hang out? Like, in this room right here?"

"Yeah, or we go out for lunch."

"How much do you guys hang out?"

"Often, Detective Holmes," Anna quipped, rolling on her side with a sarcastic smirk. Kristoff wanted to pass out.

Caught off-guard from her sassy remark, Kristoff's mouth was held agape whilst pink hues of blush crept across his face. He noticed her hand twitch, wanting to help him compose himself. Then, only had he realized he blurted out accidental words when he saw the melancholy eyes of the redhead, "He told me you two used to date."

"Um, yes... Yes we did." Anna sat up; her cheeks still a bright pink. "Sorry, that was dumb of me to say. I- I'm dumb, and stupid. Sorry he just-"Anna cut him off with a hand over his mouth. "It's okay," she said in a small voice. Her slender fingers slid from his mouth to cup his cheek. Kristoff felt the unbearable urge to swallow again, but the room was so silent, she would hear and it would result in years of embarrassment. He was nervous, no doubt about that.

Time had slowed in Kristoff's mind. His brown eyes were plastered wide and gazing at Anna. She looked beautiful in the dim light with her thick braid over her shoulder, and her half-lidded teal eyes. His childhood crush placed a hand on his chest, inching closer. The closet they had ever been.

_Holy shit. _Kristoff thought. _Am I going to actually kiss her?_

"I think I," Anna began and her eyebrows furrowed. Kristoff looked in her eyes which seemed to be searching his own eyes for an answer. "What? What do you think?" he asked, placing a strong hand gently on her back. Her chipper expression turned conflicted. "I think I like," she paused again.

_You're killing me here. Who or what do you like!?_

"Hans."

The door slammed open.

"Hold on I gotta get my keys!" a voice yelling as they entered the room. In sync, both Anna and Kristoff spun around and separated themselves from each other.

"Woaaah, what you guys doing in here?" Hans' words slurred. Not terribly, but enough to know he probably shouldn't be looking for any "keys".

"Just hanging out away from the music. It's kinda hard to hear people when it's that loud," Anna answered, pushing herself off the bed to go stand besides Hans. Kristoff had seen this before. Almost as if it was déjà vu, but he knew this wasn't at all a coincidence. He and Anna had been talking, positive conversation or not. Hans would intrude as if he were some knight in shining armor, stealing the girl of Kristoff's dreams while sweeping her off her feet.

So he didn't have the perfect nose, or the perfect hair. He wasn't wealthy or well dressed, but he had a heart of gold. Or at least that's what Bulda told him. She sang to him when he came home from the first day of middle school in brittle voice then tears. No one else knew about that, and Bulda wouldn't say a word. It's manly to cry sometimes, right? Crying is human nature.

Kristoff wondered if Hans ever cried. He doubted it, seeing Hans always kept up his façade of strength and confidence. He had once tried to do the same. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror with his chin high, chest out, and a smirk on his mouth.

He just looked stupid, he thought.


End file.
